


The Chancellor's Slave

by Poodoowriter5



Series: Re-enslaved [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Child Abuse, Hurt, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Sexual Slavery, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, POV Anakin Skywalker, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi, Slavery, Young Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 18,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23075449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poodoowriter5/pseuds/Poodoowriter5
Summary: Anakin Skywalker has been free for five years. He will never be a slave again . . . or so he thinks.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Yoda, Sheev Palpatine & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Re-enslaved [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683667
Comments: 37
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. He wasn't ready for a padawan. Stars, he wasn't even ready to be a knight! Yet here he was, freshly knighted and master of the Chosen One. What was he going to do? He couldn't handle this. It was too much. He had barely managed to accept the fact that his master was truly dead. It had just all seemed so unreal. Like he was in a terrible nightmare. But this nightmare was real. Qui-Gon was dead and he was left in charge of this young boy from the Outer Rim. There was so much to do. Mentally, he ran through a checklist just to make sure he'd gotten everything.

Set up Anakin's room. Check.

Get Anakin a training saber. Check.

Sign Anakin up for his classes. Check.

Clear out all of his late master's stuff. Check.

Get Anakin a check-up. Check.

Get Anakin datapads, robes, and a comlink. Check.

Good. He'd gotten it all. Or had he? "Blast it," he muttered. "Anakin?" 

The small boy looked up. "Yes, master?"

"Wait here. I must speak with the Council about a very important matter."

"Yes, master."

Obi-Wan smiled at him, then left, walking rapidly for the Council chamber. How the blazes had he forgotten this? It was ridiculous. He knocked, and after receiving permission to enter, walked into the circular room. "Knight Kenobi," Mace greeted. "What brings you here?"

"My padawan," he replied. 

"What about him?" Ki-Adi asked.

"Masters," the young man sighed. "We never removed his detonator chip."

The masters exchanged uncomfortable glances. "We know," Mace finally said.

Obi-Wan stared in disbelief. "You know?" They nodded. "Then what the blazes are you waiting for? We must remove that thing!"

Mace sighed heavily. "Kenobi," he said. "Believe us, we don't like it either. However, we have no choice."

"Why not?" the knight challenged.

"The healers scanned it while giving him a check-up. It appears the chip was implanted when he was only a few minutes old."

"So?"

"So, as his skull grew and hardened, it did so around the chip. The chip has fused with his skull. There is no way to safely remove it."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "So what do we do then? We obviously cannot have him walking around with a detonator inside him," he said.

Mace shook his head. "I'm afraid we have no choice," he said. "However," he added, "There's no need to worry. We have deactivated it."

"And what of the box that allows you to reactivate it?" Obi-Wan asked. "It would not be wise to keep it in the Temple. If another Jedi were to follow in Dooku's footsteps and turn, they could access it and use it against him. Also, if we keep it, the public may accuse us of being slavers. We cannot afford that."

Once again, the masters glanced at each other. "We know this, Kenobi," Ki-Adi said. "That's why we have decided not to keep the box in the Temple."

Obi-Wan frowned. "What then?"

"We have turned it over to the chancellor with strict orders not to inform anyone about it, not even the senators. He, as head of the Republic, is responsible for the well-being of everyone within Republic jurisdiction. He will be unable to use the detonator against young Skywalker because if he does, we will know exactly who did it," Mace answered.

Obi-Wan suddenly felt sick. He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about this. "Masters, I think that would be unwise," he began. He really didn't like the sound of Chancellor Palpatine holding Anakin's life in his hands. 

"It's too late, Kenobi," Ki-Adi said."We have already done it."

Obi-Wan felt a flare of anger. They hadn't even consulted with him! This was his padawan's well-being they were talking about, and they had only informed him because he had pressed them for answers! 

"Don't worry," Yarael said consolingly. "The chancellor is indebted to Anakin anyway for his help during the Battle of Naboo. He is grateful to the boy. He is extremely unlikely to do anything to harm him."

That didn't make Obi-Wan feel any better about the situation. There was nothing he could do about it though, so he merely bowed. "Very well, masters. I shall be going now."


	2. Chapter 2

"Again," Obi-Wan instructed. His fourteen-year old apprentice obediently went through the kata again. Obi-Wan shook his head. "Your grip is too tight. Loosen up."

Face drawn with determination and concentration, the boy repeated the kata. "Anakin," his master sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If your knuckles are turning white, your grip is too hard. Loosen up."

This time, Anakin dropped his lightsaber halfway through the kata. Obi-Wan groaned. "Do you know the meaning of 'a happy medium'?" he asked exasparatedly.

The teenager smiled good-humoredly. "Nope." Then he wiped the hair out of his eyes and said, "Don't worry, master. I'll get it down. I promise. I won't leave the dojo until I do."

Obi-Wan smiled back. It was truly a joy to teach Anakin. He was optimistic, eager to learn, determined, and positive. Granted, he could also be headstrong and reckless, but nobody was perfect. "You're going to be here a while, then," he replied.

Anakin shrugged and continued his exercise. Obi-Wan's prophesy turned out to be true. It was well past ten and his apprentice was still training. "Anakin," he said. "Come on, that's enough. Let's call it a day."

Anakin shook his head. "You go home, master," he said. "I'm going to learn this kata if it kills me."

"Anakin, that's enough. I mean it," Obi-Wan said. "You will only tire yourself out, which will lead to sloppy performance. Let's go home." Anakin sighed, but powered down his lightsaber and followed the older Jedi to their quarters.

* * *

Anakin quickly showered, changed, and went to bed. He was thoroughly exhausted. All of his limbs were sore. Blast it all. Maybe his master was right. Maybe he was pushing himself a little too far. Whatever. As long as he learned what he had to learn, he didn't care. He wouldn't let his master down. 

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when his comlink chimed. "He picked it up and answered. "Skywalker here," he said groggily. 

"Anakin!" Palpatine's voice came through the device. "I apologize. I know it's early, but I need your help, lad."

Anakin glanced at the chrono. It was two in the blasted morning! What the blazes could be so important that it couldn't wait until later? And why had the chancellor called _him_? There were many more Jedi who had far more experience and wisdom than he did. Still, the chancellor was a good friend. If he needed Anakin, then Anakin would be there for him. "What's going on?" he asked, still only half-awake.

"I can't say it over comm. Can you just meet me in my office as soon as possible?"

Anakin frowned. "Sure. Just let me tell Obi-Wan, and . . ."

"No!" the chancellor sounded desperate. "Don't tell anyone, I beg you!"

Anakin's frown deepened. "Why not?"

"Please, Anakin. It's a very confidential matter. Once I tell it to you, then you can use your judgement and decide whether or not to tell him. But please, at least hear me out first."

Anakin was silent for a moment. He didn't want to hide anything from Obi-Wan, but he trusted the chancellor. Besides, he had said he could tell his master afterwards if he wanted. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll be right there."

Sneaking out of the Temple was easy for him. He'd learned how to use the force to shield so effectively that no one could know he was there. He used this trick now to slip past the Temple guards. He grabbed a speeder and headed to the Senate Building. He went in and hurried to Palpatine's office. 

He turned as the boy entered. "Thank you so much for coming, my boy," he said.

Anakin bowed. "It's nothing. What's the matter?"

The chancellor smiled. "Sit down. I have a sneaking suspicion that a certain Senator Bail Organa is . . . well . . . is plotting against the Republic." 

Anakin's jaw fell open. "Chancellor, that's . . ."

The old man held up a hand, cutting him off. "Anakin, I think he is working with Dooku. I'm sure you've heard of that man."

"He's a darksider," Anakin said. Even the younglings knew that.

"Exactly. If Senator Organa is indeed in league with him, it can hardly bode well for the future of the Republic."

"But . . ."

"Anakin. You're a smart boy. I need you to spy on Senator Organa for me. I can't have the officials do it because I have no solid evidence. Go through his records, datapads, communications, everything. I hope to the stars you find nothing, but if you do, you must report back to me."

Anakin stood. "Chancellor, with all due respect, I must refuse this request. You're a good friend, I won't deny that, but this is insane. Senator Organa is a trusted friend of my master, and I trust my master's judgement. If he believes that the senator is a good man, then that's good enough for me."

"Anakin," the old man said. He sounded almost threatening. "You will do what I ask."

Anakin shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. Senator Organa trusts the Jedi. I will not betray that trust." 

"Oh, but you will," the chancellor practically spat.

"I'll be leaving now, sir."

"You will do no such thing." The chancellor stood up and slammed the door shut, locking it. 

Anakin felt a tendril of fear creep up. He had a bad feeling about this. "Chancellor, please let me go," he said, trying to remain calm.

"Sit down, Skywalker," he snarled. 

Anakin was getting really worried now. "Chancellor . . ."

"I said sit down!"

Anakin closed his eyes. This couldn't be happening. The chancellor was his friend and mentor. He would never hurt him . . . right?

"You will spy on the senator and you will not say anything of this to anyone. Is that clear?"

"Sir, I won't tell the senator of your suspicions, but I will not spy on him."

"You will do whatever I say. And I'll show you why. Look at that." He pushed something forward on his desk. Anakin looked at it and immediately felt sick. He would know that thing anywhere. It was his detonator chip's control box. "The Jedi turned this over to me years ago. I have, as you can see, reactivated it. You are mine." He was smiling sadistically.

Anakin stumbled back, shivering. "I _trusted_ you," he whispered. "I thought you _cared_ about me!"

"You were wrong. And if you don't submit to my demands, I can and will make you pay."

A defiant spark flamed in the boy's eye. "Fine. You can blow me up if you want. I won't betray a friend."

The chancellor raised his eyebrows. "Submit to my demands or I will have Senator Organa, Queen Amidala, and Master Kenobi all . . . let's see, how do I put this? . . . exterminated."

Anakin glared at him. "You're one man. You're no match for the Jedi."

"Anakin, Anakin," the old man chuckled. "I have agents everywhere. Some of them are even in the Temple itself. Dooku was just one of them. Disobey me and I will know. I can and will make everyone you care about disappear."

Anakin swallowed. The chancellor was telling the truth. He could sense it in the force. He bit his lip. "Fine!" he spat. "I'll do it. But you'd better not touch any of them, or else, the deal's off."

The chancellor smiled. "I knew you'd see reason. Now go. I expect a report by tomorrow night." Anakin turned resentfully to leave. "And Anakin?" the chancellor called after him. "Remember. Not a word to anyone about any of this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Palpatine is starting to show his true colors. What did you guys think?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . just as a warning, there is going to be some violence in this chapter and most likely in future ones as well. Other than that, there isn't really anything else for me to say. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Anakin stumbled into his room and collapsed onto the bed. It was three-thirty in the morning. He was still in shock over what had transpired in the chancellor's office. He couldn't believe it. He had trusted that man. He had considered him a friend and mentor. Never in his wildest dreams would Anakin have thought he would do this to him. But he had. And now Anakin was forced to do as he ordered. Because if he didn't, Bail's, Obi-Wan's, and Padme's blood would be on his hands. Not to mention the fact that he himself would be blown to bits.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. Then he got up and snuck back out of the Temple. He reached Bail's apartment at four. Stomach churning with guilt and self-disgust, he used the force to silently open the window and slipped in. He quickly made his way to Bail's private study and looked around. There were some papers on the desk. Anakin glanced over them, but they were just notes for a senate speech. Then he quickly picked the lock to the filing cabinet and skimmed through the folders inside. Just some old senate speeches and trials, tax reports, Bail's birth certificate, and his marriage certificate. He replaced everything and re-locked the cabinet. Next he turned his attention to the desk drawer. Inside, there were some pens, unused envelopes, blank papers, and a datapad. He looked through the datapad's history. There was nothing incriminating. He replaced everything, closed the drawer, and glanced over the shelves. Just some pictures of family and a plant in a pot. Working quickly because Bail would be getting up any minute now, he checked for any evidence of a hidden vault or safe. There was none. He heard the water in the fresher turn on. Stealthily, he slipped back out of the window and used the force to close it after him. Then he ran all the way home.

It was five-thirty when he made it. Obi-Wan would be up soon. He went into his room and made sure his shields were stronger than durasteel. Then he sat down to compose himself. His heart was racing, his breath was coming fast and harsh, and his stomach was churning. A few minutes later, he heard Obi-Wan getting up. He closed his eyes to prevent the tears from coming.

Then he got up and went to join his master for breakfast and morning meditation.

* * *

Obi-Wan frowned as his padawan left for classes. Something was troubling the boy, that much was obvious. He looked like he hadn't slept at all last night and his shields were slammed up and locked tight. It was unlike Anakin to hide things from him. For some reason, the fact that he was doing so now made Obi-Wan very, _very_ worried. He shrugged it off though. Knowing Anakin, he had simply snuck out of their quarters to train all night and was trying to hide it. He would probably tell him all about it during training today with a sheepish grin plastered on his face. Chuckling, the Jedi left his apartment to write up reports for the council.

* * *

Anakin snuck out of the Temple that night and headed to the Senate Building. Obi-Wan was already suspicious of him. That was not good. At all. Even his classmates had noticed something was off. He had nearly fallen asleep in class twice. But then, could you blame him? He'd only gotten like three hours of sleep! Stifling a yawn, he entered the chancellor's office.

"Anakin," the man greeted. "I trust you have news?"

Anakin really wanted to hit the old man. Obviously that was out of the question, though. He shook his head. "It's just as I told you, sir. I went through his private study and found nothing to suggest he is in league with Dooku."

The old man narrowed his eyes. "Nothing?" he asked dangerously.

"Nothing," the boy confirmed.

"I don't believe you!" the chancellor hissed. He suddenly pulled out an electro-spear. Anakin barely had time to wonder how he'd missed the weapon before the chancellor stabbed him in the chest with it. The teenager cried out and fell to his knees. "Tell me the truth!" the old man screamed, plunging the weapon into him again.

"I did! I swear!"

"Liar!" The old man continued to ruthlessly stab him for several minutes. Then it ended. "Well then," he said pleasantly, sitting back down. "Perhaps you should get home now. We wouldn't want Master Kenobi to worry about you, now would we? Continue your research and report back tomorrow night."

Anakin stared at the ceiling, his limbs still trembling and his chest heaving. He slowly picked himself up. As he turned to leave, Palpatine called after him, " Anakin, I gave you an order." Anakin stopped. "Well?" the old man pressed.

Anakin bit his lip. "Fine," he ground out.

"Come now, Anakin, is that how you answer me? I _do_ own you after all."

Anakin stared stubbornly at the ground.

"Hmm. Maybe it's already time one of my agents visited Master Kenobi, then. Will that be necessary?"

Anakin flinched. "No."

"No?"

Anakin closed his eyes. "No . . . master."

Palpatine smiled. "Good. Go now."

Anakin ran home and immediately slipped into his room. He didn't even make it to the bed before he collapsed and sobbed himself to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! Another chapter down! As always, please let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . yeah. More violence in this chapter. If that bothers you, then reading this might not be such a good idea. If not, then I hope you enjoy!

Anakin woke up with a groan. His chest was on fire. He stiffly got off the floor and made his way to the fresher. He pulled off his shirt and cursed quietly. His whole chest had bright red, swollen streaks across it from the electro-staff. Hissing quietly, he smeared a thin layer of bacta on it and replaced his shirt. Then he went to join his master for breakfast.

"Good morning, padawan," his master greeted. "Breakfast is just ready. Do you want milk or juice?"

To be honest, Anakin didn't think he could eat anything right now. The stress of knowing he was spying on a friend and of what Palpatine was doing had his stomach in knots. 

"Anakin? Did you hear me? I asked whether you wanted milk or juice."

Anakin shrugged wearily and poked at his sausage with his fork. His master scrutinized him. "Milk it is, then."

Once again, the boy just shrugged. He managed to choke down a few bites before leaving for classes. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Something was definitely off about Anakin. He had barely eaten three bites of breakfast. Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. The boy had seemed fine two days ago. Yesterday, when he'd gotten up exhausted he'd thought it was because of too much training, but Anakin hadn't said anything and he never tried to hide it when he did extra training. He had no clue as to what could be wrong. Maybe he was just tired? But why? And how come his shields were still slammed shut? He frowned. Anakin was many things, but secretive wasn't one of them. He would doubtless tell him what the problem was when he was ready. Putting it out of his mind for the present, he went to deal with his duties around the Temple.

* * *

Anakin dragged himself back to his quarters. He had thoroughly searched Bail's senatorial office and Alderaanian records. As he'd suspected, there was no evidence to suggest that the senator was a traitor to the Republic. If yesterday's episode was anything to go by, Palpatine would not be happy with today's report.

"You're late," Obi-Wan remarked. 

Anakin dipped his head. "Sorry, master."

"Where were you?" 

Anakin bit his lip. He didn't want to lie, but he obviously couldn't tell the truth. "Out," he said lamely.

Obi-Wan frowned. "That's not very specific, padawan."

Anakin shrugged.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed.

"Yeah?"

"Where were you?" 

"Just out, okay?" the teenager said more harshly than he intended. "Look, I'm sorry," he sighed. "I'm just . . . tired."

Obi-Wan sighed again. "Very well. Eat some dinner. It's in the oven. Then you can go to sleep."

The boy shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Anakin, it's past eight and you haven't eaten all day. How are you not hungry?"

Anakin closed his eyes. "I'm just not."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Alright, then. Go to bed."

The boy turned to leave. "And Anakin?"

"Yeah?"

"You know you can trust me, right? You know I'll always be here to listen to anything you have to say."

Anakin nodded, fighting tears. He wanted to tell him so badly. To collapse into his arms and tell him everything. But he couldn't. Not if he wanted to protect his friends. So he just nodded, went to his room, and waited for Obi-Wan to fall asleep so he could report to Palpatine.

* * *

"Are you certain you found nothing?"

Anakin gulped. "Absolutely," he replied.

Palpatine snarled. "I hope you aren't trying to hide anything from me."

"I'm not, sir. I swear it."

Palpatine growled. Then he punched the boy in the chest with surprising strength for such an old man. Anakin grunted in pain and stumbled backwards. Palpatine had an evil smile now. He grabbed Anakin by the collar and pulled a knife out of his pocket. He pressed the tip against the boy's side, but didn't cut him. Anakin struggled to free himself from his grip, but to no avail. The chancellor buried the knife in his upper arm, just below the shoulder. Anakin cried out and slid to the floor, shaking violently. Palpatine kicked him. "Get out of my sight, you pathetic scum. Continue searching for evidence. I expect you to be ready to report when I call."

* * *

Anakin slipped into the fresher as quietly as he could. Still shaking, he removed his shirt, which by now was saturated with blood. He quickly dumped it in the sink and grabbed some disinfectant ointment and gauze. Struggling to keep his shields in place, he cleaned the knife wound and wrapped it tightly. Then he wiped up all of the blood with toilet paper and flushed it down the toilet. Now to deal with the shirt. He rinsed it, keeping the water low so as not to wake his master, then applied salt and scrubbed it. Thankfully, the bloodstains came out. He tossed the shirt into the dirty pile, made sure the fresher was clean, and went to his room. He collapsed onto the bed. It was two in the morning, his stomach was doing cartwheels, his chest was burning, and his arm was throbbing. He was exhausted. Before long, he was slipping into dreams filled with Padme dead, Obi-Wan screaming in pain, Bail being tortured for information that he didn't have, and Palpatine watching it all with a cold, cruel smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? I did some reading on psychopathy, and I'm one hundred and ten percent sure that Palpatine is a psychopath. And a narcissist. Oh, and a sadist. What do you guys think?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there is no violence in this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Anakin braced himself against the wall with one hand to steady himself. He was feeling extremely lightheaded. Okay, so maybe skipping breakfast again had been a bad idea. The lack of food, combined with the loss of blood from his arm was starting to take its toll. 

"Padawan Skywalker? Are you well?" Ki-Adi, his class lightsaber instructor asked.

He hauled himself upright, swaying imperceptibly on his feet. "I'm fine, master."

The Jedi master frowned. The boy seemed much less active and enthusiastic than usual. He reached through the force and brushed lightly against his mind. He was stunned to find that the boy had erected iron shields and was keeping them stubbornly locked shut. "Very well, then. Sixth position."

Anakin wasn't sure how he made it out of that class without passing out. He still had history class and astrophysics class. He knew for a fact that he was not going to make it through two more classes. He bit his lip, then decided to just skip them. It was better than passing out during the lesson and being dragged off to the healers. If he went to the healers, they would find out about his injuries and demand an explanation. That would be . . . uncomfortable to say the least.

He felt something warm on his arm and realized that his arm had bled through the bandage. "Blast it," he muttered through gritted teeth. He went to his apartment to reapply bacta and change his bandage. He really wanted to just go to sleep for a month, but he couldn't. He didn't know when the chancellor was planning to call him, but he did not want to be caught unprepared. That would only serve to anger the old man. He sat down on the couch, pulled out his datapad, and began to research the Organa family history.

* * *

This was getting out of hand. As Anakin left without touching his breakfast, Obi-Wan realized that this was the fourth meal in a row the boy had skipped. Added to that, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. He hadn't said a word since their conversation the night before. Obi-Wan had felt some sort of struggle within the boy, and for a moment, he'd thought that Anakin was going to give in and confide in him. He hadn't. Instead, he'd made his shields even stronger and gone to bed. It was all seriously disturbing Obi-Wan. What could be so bad that Anakin wouldn't tell him about it? The boy knew he could trust him. So why didn't he? Had he failed the boy somehow? Had he accidentally hurt him? How? Was this all his fault? Questions and self-doubt swarmed over him as he thought about it. Maybe this was all a normal part of being a teenager? He'd never been like this as a padawan.

Sighing, he went to see his long-time friend, Siri. He found her meditating in the gardens. She sensed him as he approached. "What's up, Obi?" she asked, turning to face him.

"I wish I knew," he replied, sitting next to her.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's Anakin. Something is bothering him, but he won't tell me what. Has Ferus ever done this to you?"

She smiled. "Oh, yeah. Last month, he dropped his comm down the toilet and was too embarrassed to tell me. He was avoiding me for a week until he finally fessed up."

Obi-Wan chuckled, then grew serious again. "But Siri, this is different. Anakin has done things that he was embarrassed or afraid to tell me, but he always did within a day. It's been three days already," he said.

She shrugged. "Maybe this time it's something bigger than just training all night again. Anakin's a pretty honest kid. He'll tell you eventually. Or maybe it's a surprise for you."

He shook his head. "No, if it was something good, he would be excited. He's distressed. I can tell that much."

Siri frowned. "Has he ever done this before?"

He shook his head again. "No. That's what has me worried. He's never acted this strangely."

"Strangely?"

He nodded. "He's been blocking me non-stop for the past three days. And he hasn't eaten since the day before yesterday. And I don't think he's getting much sleep."

"Oh, that sounds bad. Ferus has never acted like that. Maybe you should take him to a healer. He might be sick and trying to hide it."

Obi-Wan snorted. "If he is, he's doing a poor job of it. That does sound like something he would do, though. Thanks, Siri."

She smiled. "Anytime, Obi."

He left, walking towards their apartment. He would make sure that Anakin ate something for dinner, and tomorrow he would take him to the healers. Hopefully, this whole thing would be over soon.

* * *

Anakin sensed his master approaching the apartment and quickly closed out of the records he'd been reading. The last thing he needed was his master asking him why he was reading up on the Organa family history. He grabbed the remote and switched on the TV just as Obi-Wan entered. 

"Oh, hello, Anakin," his master said.

Anakin forced a smile. "Hey."

Obi-Wan smiled back. "I hope you're hungry because I'm making casserole for dinner." Anakin just shrugged and went back to the TV. He wasn't really watching, though. Obi-Wan was clearly expecting him to eat. He still didn't have any appetite, but he knew he had to eat something if he didn't want to pass out. He just hoped he didn't end up throwing up his dinner. 

Obi-Wan watched in satisfaction as his padawan finally ate some dinner. Granted, he only took a small piece, but it was better than nothing. Maybe he was already getting better.

Anakin excused himself soon after finishing and went to his room to finish reading the records. About fifteen minutes later, he heard Obi-Wan knock on his door. He closed out of the records and opened the door. "Hey, Anakin," he said. "Why don't we watch some TV together? That is, unless you have homework."

Once again, Anakin forced a smile. "Nah, I'll be right there. Just let me finish reading something, okay?" Obi-Wan nodded and went to wait on the couch. Anakin quickly finished reading the records before joining him.

Halfway through the show, Obi-Wan nudged him gently. "You feeling alright, young one?" he asked.

Anakin glanced up. "I'm fine. Why?"

"You seem ill or something."

Anakin checked to make sure his shields were still in place. "I'm fine, " he repeated.

"I still think you should get a check-up," Obi-Wan insisted.

"No. I told you, I'm fine."

"Anakin, don't be stubborn. It's just a check-up."

"No. I don't need a check-up. I'm fine. Look, I was tired yesterday, okay? There's no need to worry."

"I suppose that explains your loss of appetite?" his master challenged.

"I ate dinner! I'm fine, master." Anakin said defensively. 

"Then get checked for my sake," his master said. "Please, Anakin, if nothing is wrong, at least do it for my peace of mind."

"I said I'm fine! Besides, I have classes tomorrow."

"After classes, then."

"I have homework."

"After homework?"

"Dinner. Really, master, I'm okay. I'm not sick."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Anakin, can you look me in the eye and promise that you're not sick?"

Anakin coolly met his master's gaze. "I'm not sick. I swear."

Obi-Wan sighed in defeat. He could sense that Anakin wasn't lying. "Fine. But once again, Anakin, you can trust me. You can tell me anything you want."

_If only that were true_. Anakin thought wistfully. He nodded and continued watching the TV show. When it ended, he went to the fresher, put more bacta on his wounds, and went to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, no violence in this chapter either. Hope you enjoy it!

Anakin woke up with a sharp gasp. He'd been dreaming again. Blast it! How many times would he see his loved ones die in horrible ways? He groaned and buried his head in his hands. His arm was burning. At least his chest was almost completely healed. He quietly went to the fresher and reapplied bacta to his arm. Then he made breakfast. He didn't feel like eating, but Obi-Wan was getting suspicious. If he didn't act normal, his master would likely drag him off to the healers. Not good.

"Glad to see your appetite has returned," his master commented. "You had me worried." 

Anakin forced a smile. "I told you I was fine."

Obi-Wan smiled at him. As soon as he left for classes, Anakin darted for a trash bin and vomited his breakfast up. He stared shakily at it. This was not good. He couldn't stop worrying about Palpatine. The knowledge that he held so many lives in his hands struck a fear in Anakin so deep that he couldn't even keep his food down. He knew this fear. He had felt it one other time, when he'd been five. He'd lashed out at Watto for beating him, and Watto had threatened to blow his mother up. Never had he expected Palpatine to inspire that kind of fear. _Well he did._ He told himself fiercely. _He did, and now you have to deal with it._

Force. He did not feel like facing his teachers right now. His head hurt, his arm ached, and his stomach was still churning. He skipped classes for the second day in a row, choosing instead to search the rest of Bail's apartment while the senator was at a meeting.

* * *

As Obi-Wan watched his padawan leave, he couldn't help but feel like something was still off. True, his appetite had returned, which was good. But the boy's shields still hadn't budged, and he still looked tired. And the smile Anakin had given him had seemed strained. Almost like the boy was in pain. Frowning thoughtfully, he went to see master Vokara Che.

* * *

Anakin got back from Bail's apartment at around three. His master was nowhere in sight. Thank the force. Anakin was sure the guilt was evident in his expression. He couldn't ease his conscious with the knowledge that he was betraying Bail's trust. But he had no choice. _Oh, but you do_. A nasty little voice in his head told him. _You could just let them all die. Follow the Jedi Code and let go of them._ He ruthlessly squashed the thought and went to lie down.

* * *

"Master Kenobi," the Twi'lek healer greeted. "How can I help you?"

"It's about Anakin," he answered, sitting down.

She snorted. "Why am I not surprised? What happened?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "That's just it," he said. "Nothing that I know of."

"So what's the problem, then?" master Che asked.

"I don't know. He's been acting strangely lately. His shields have been up for days and he looks exhausted."

"Appetite okay?"

"It is now. Yesterday and the day before, he barely ate anything. But he ate a normal breakfast today."

"Good. Any recent injuries?"

"No. At least, none that I'm aware of."

"Any vomiting or otherwise upset stomach?"

"No."

"Hmm. Interesting. Maybe he's just tired and he doesn't want you to make him skip classes to rest. That would explain his shielding."

"Yes. And his exhaustion. But master Che, what could be making him so tired in the first place?"

"Has he been doing something particularly difficult for training?"

Obi-Wan thought back to their session a few days ago. "Yes. He's trying to master a rather advanced kata."

"That could be it, then. He's more tired than usual because his training has been unusually difficult. He doesn't, however, want to miss classes, so he's shielding from you, trying to hide that fatigue."

Obi-Wan rose. "Thank you, master. I suppose you're right. It would explain a lot of his recent behaivor."

She smiled at him. "No problem. Make sure he gets his rest and he should be fine in a few days."

* * *

Five minutes later, his comlink chimed. He answered. "Skywalker here."

"Report," Palpatine's voice said.

Anakin swallowed the bile that rise in his throat. "Nothing. I went through his whole house and family records. He's clear."

The chancellor hissed. "Come to my office immediately."

Anakin sensed his master approaching and silently thanked all the stars, gods, and heavens. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I can't. Obi-Wan is coming. If I keep leaving, he'll get suspicious."

"Come inst . . ."

"He's here. Gotta go." Anakin shut off the communication, sighing with relief. He went to spend the rest of the evening with Obi-Wan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is! Poor Obi is getting all stressed out over this. He knows Ani too well to not realize that something's up! ;) I hope you guys liked it!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This chapter is kinda short, and there is some violence in it. Just letting you guys know. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

The next day, Anakin finally worked up the will to go to classes. His teachers and classmates shot him questioning glances, but nobody actually asked him anything. Good. He didn't feel like interacting with anyone any more than necessary anyway. He got home and went straight to his quarters to wait for Obi-Wan to show up so they could practice katas together. He felt numb. His arm was finally healing, which was good. Another day or two and it should be back to normal. He heard the door open and went to meet his master.

"Anakin," he greeted. "Have a good day at classes?"

The teenager shrugged. "Sure. Come on, let's get to the dojo."

"Actually, padawan, I think we should skip a day or two of training."

Anakin's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Why?" he asked incredulously.

Obi-Wan looked at him. "Anakin," he sighed. "It's just for a day or two."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Well, I just figured it would be a good idea to take a break. You've been working extremely hard on that last kata, and I think you should take a break before moving on to other techniques," he explained patiently. 

Anakin bit his lip. "It's not necessary," he said slowly. Obi-Wan was hiding something. Well, maybe not hiding. More like withholding information. Did he suspect something?

"Maybe not, but I doubt it would do us any harm," his master replied, carelessly.

"Okay," the boy sighed.

* * *

Obi-Wan sat down on the couch. Surprisingly, it had taken very little persuasion to get Anakin to go to bed early. He really must be worn out. What kind of master was he? He had literally worked his padawan to exhaustion. He knew he was an inadequate master. He had failed to see Anakin's limitations and now the boy was completely burnt out and closed off. Wonderful. How had he not seen this? To him, it seemed like it had happened overnight. Like one night Anakin was fine, and the next he was running on empty. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Was he really that inattentive? Apparently so. Sighing, he got up and went to bed.

* * *

Anakin's comlink went off. Cursing, he reached for it before stopping cold. That was doubtless Palpatine. He hadn't heard from the old man since hanging up on him yesterday. He likely wanted Anakin in his office. Immediately. Swallowing the fear that rose up in him, he sat up. He could ignore it. But then Palpatine would get even angrier. Which put Obi-Wan, Padme, Bail, and himself in serious danger. Sighing, he answered.

"I trust you are alone?" Palpatine hissed venemously. 

"Yes."

"I expect you in my office within the hour. No excuses." The old man ended the transmission. Sighing again, Anakin dressed and headed out. 

He reached the office twenty minutes later. Palpatine was waiting. "So," he said. "You thought you could escape me?" 

Anakin stiffened. "N-no!" he stuttered. "Obi-Wan was coming. I couldn't risk him hearing us!"

"Why don't I believe you, Anakin?" the old man asked silkily.

"I'm not lying, sir! He was!"

Palpatine backhanded him roughly. "Not sir," he growled.

Anakin forced back the bile that rose in his throat. "Master."

Palpatine smirked. "I still don't quite believe you. It seems to me that you, my boy, are trying to avoid me."

Anakin gritted his teeth and looked down. He didn't like where this was going. 

"Perhaps you are tired of our deal?" the old man continued. Anakin shook his head. "And then there is your rather disappointing results on Bail Organa."

"There's absolutely nothing against him, s - master," the boy said.

"Hmm. Maybe, maybe not."

"I've checked everything! I swear! There's nothing!"

The chancellor slapped him hard enough to send him staggering backwards. Then he wrapped his icy fingers around the boy's neck and shoved him up against the wall. Anakin struggled, gasping for air. Palpatine kneed him in the stomach repeatedly. Anakin clawed desperately at the hands around his throat. His vision was spotting out. He was dimly aware of throwing up before everything went black. He woke up a few minutes later, lying on the office floor. Palpatine was watching him with a predator-like expression. Anakin shuddered. "The next time I call you, you respond instantly. Otherwise, I will punish you, and I will be far less forgiving next time. Is that clear?"

The teenager barely managed to nod.

"Now get out. I will call you again when I need you."

Anakin forced himself to his feet and stumbled home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . what did you think. This whole situation is taking a toll on Obi-Wan, too! Poor guy. All he wants is to help his apprentice.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay . . . so this is another really short chapter. There is no violence in this one, just so you know. Hope you guys enjoy it!

The next week or so passed easily. Palpatine didn't call him once, and his wounds were completely healed. Ask anyone in the Temple, and they would have said that young Skywalker was completely fine and back to normal. But he wasn't. Not really. He lived every moment in fear. Fear that Palpatine would summon him again. Fear that the chancellor would not keep his end of the bargain. Fear that his shields would slip and Obi-Wan would find out about his new situation. He was almost always exhausted; keeping his shields up perpetually was extremely draining. The worst part was the nightmares. He'd lost count of how many times he'd seen his master die or heard padme's tortured screams. He had at least two nightmares a night. He managed to put up a show during the day, however, in order to avoid suspicion. He smiled and chatted when he really wanted to collapse and cry. He joked and trained when he really just wanted to sleep. He didn't even tinker anymore. Tinkering helped him think, and he didn't want to think. Because if he thought, all of his fears would drown him. He would see how completely at Palpatine's mercy he was. He would see that his friends' lives were in the hands of an evil maniac. And he would see that there was nothing he could do to change it. So he didn't tinker, and he didn't think. He just did. He didn't meditate, either. Because meditation had the same results as thinking. So when his master called him to meditate, he would sit with his eyes closed and his shields up and occupy his mind with his next assignment or the latest news. He started obsessing over his schoolwork, often working on it until well past midnight in his struggle to keep his mind occupied with something other than _him._ But to the outside world, Anakin was fine. There was absolutely nothing wrong. And that was how it should be. For the sake of his friends, that was how it _had_ to be. 

* * *

Obi-Wan frowned to himself. True, Anakin was eating, sleeping, and training well again. But the boy still had his shields up all the time. He didn't seem troubled, but Obi-Wan just couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something big. Something important. But he couldn't for the life of him guess what it was. Maybe he was just being a bit paranoid. Maybe Anakin truly was fine. After all, there was no evidence to the contrary. Yes, he was just being overprotective. His padawan was perfectly alright. Telling himself to snap out of it, he went to clean the apartment.

* * *

Anakin was studying when his comlink went off. His heart dropped into his stomach as he answered and saw Palpatine. "Listen up," the old man spat. "I have a new assignment for you. Breha Organa is in possesion of some highly important holodisks. They contain evidence that Viceroy Gunray is behind the murder of the late Senator Horso. Get those disks and give them to me within two days. You must hurry, for the trial for the murder is coming up in two days' time and she must not be allowed to use them against the Viceroy."

The boy's jaw dropped. "But sir!" he exclaimed. "I . . . how will justice be served if she can't prove he is behind the murder?"

"I have no interest in justice. Viceroy Nute Gunray is of immense value to me at present. I cannot allow him to be executed for murder. Do as I command."

"But if he's guilty . . ."

"I don't care. Do not ask questions. Just do as you're told, or else," the old man threatened. 

Anakin looked down. "I'll get them."

"Good. Remember, _before_ the trial."

Anakin nodded, and Palpatine cut the transmission. The boy collapsed onto the couch. How could he do this? How could he aid in this injustice? He, a Jedi? He was supposed to be a _guardian_ of peace and justice! Not helping defend a murderer! He groaned. If he did this, he would never be able to look himself in the mirror again. But if he didn't . . . he shuddered, thinking about the consequences. Could he live knowing that he could have protected his friends, but chose not to? Which was more important: his friends or seeing justice served? His stomach was churning with self-loathing and guilt. He bolted to the fresher just in time to vomit into the toilet. He came out just as Obi-Wan entered. 

"Padawan," the red-haired Jedi greeted. 

Anakin forced a smile. "Master. What's up?"

Obi-Wan smiled back. "Nothing much. I thought we could go out for dinner today if you want."

Anakin nodded. "Sure." So they did. And the whole time they were out, Anakin laughed and talked with his master, never letting him see the intense struggle going on inside. Never giving him even a glimpse of the guilt, fear, and anger that were burning inside of him. And that night, after his master was asleep, Anakin once again slipped out and headed for the Organa household.

* * *

As Obi-Wan cleaned, he made a shocking discovery. Anakin's tools, droids, and workbench were all covered with a fine layer of dust. The boy hadn't touched them in over a week. He knew it now. Something was wrong with Anakin. The boy was hiding something. What it was, he had no idea, but it could not be good. Why the blazes couldn't the boy just trust him and explain what was going on? Was he truly that distant from him? Obi-Wan couldn't understand it. He looked fine. He acted fine. But something told Obi-Wan that he wasn't fine. And this just confirmed it. Anakin loved tinkering. Why would he stop so suddenly? It wasn't right. It wasn't right at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. Ani may be able to fool most people, but not Obi! ;) Hope you guys liked it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER HAS LOTS OF VIOLENCE AND SOME VERY DARK THOUGHTS.
> 
> Aside from that, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Anakin stealthily made a thorough search of the study and office. Unfortunately, he didn't find the holodisks. Then it struck him. They were important; Breha would have the sense to keep them near her at all times. Which meant that they were most likely currently hidden in her bedroom. Blast it all. Now what? He couldn't risk going in there while she was sleeping. On the other hand, he had no idea if she would keep them in the room during the day. Sighing to himself, he went home. He would deal with these holodisks tomorrow.

* * *

Obi-Wan remained at the table long after Anakin had left for classes. The boy had seemed well-rested and cheerful. Yet his gut was still whispering to him that something was off. He rose and went to see his friend Garen.

* * *

Anakin arrived home at three in the morning. That left him about two or three hours before he had to be up for meditation and breakfast. He lay down on the bed, but sleep eluded him. He couldn't calm his conscience or the sickness he felt. He was planning on aiding a murderer. Didn't that make him an accomplice? Didn't that make him just as bad as, if not worse than, Nute Gunray? He tried not to toss and turn so as not to wake Obi-Wan. What else would Palpatine make him do? How far would he go? First, it had been spying on a friend . . . something Anakin still didn't feel right about. Now it was helping a criminal. What next? Anakin realized he didn't really want to find out. _I could end it._ He thought. _I could just end it all. How hard would it truly be? Just one quick slash across his own wrist, or one rapid lightsaber thrust into his own chest . . ._ He quickly banished the thought. He couldn't die. If he did, who would ensure that Palpatine stayed away from Padme and Obi-Wan? No, this was why he didn't want to think. He was starting to get delusional. Escape was never that easy. Besides, his master would be devastated if he did that. He couldn't put Obi-Wan through something like that. No, he would do as the chancellor asked until he became strong enough to resist him and still protect those he loved. Until then, though, he had to deal with the situation he was in.

* * *

He headed out to "classes" right after breakfast. More like he skipped classes and headed over to Breaha Organa's home. He really hoped those holodisks were there. If they weren't, well, things would get . . . difficult to say the least. He had until noon to get them. If he didn't show up for lunch, Obi-Wan would get suspicious. He couldn't afford that. Steeling himself, he snuck into the apartment.

* * *

"Hey, Garen, you busy?" Obi-Wan asked.

Garen smiled. "Not really. I was just going to meditate. Why? Did you need something?"

Obi-Wan sat down on a stone bench. "I- I'm worried about Anakin," he admitted quietly. "He's been so . . . different."

Garen frowned in confusion. "Different?" he asked, sitting next to his friend. "Different how?"

"He is perpetually shielding from me. He looks, acts, and seems fine, but I can't shake the feeling that he's changed somehow."

Garen knit his brows. "Hmm."

"And, Garen," Obi-Wan continued, "he hasn't touched anything mechanical in over two weeks. I mean nothing. Not droids, not starship models, not fighters, not anything. It's not normal."

Garen sighed. "Obi," he said, then stopped. "I don't really know how to say this without sounding heartless, but I don't think you should be worried."

Obi-Wan frowned. "What do you mean? Say what without sounding heartless?"

Garen shrugged. "Obi, he's fourteen. He's growing up. He's not the scared, innocent child who used to come to your bed after having a nightmare. He's not a little boy anymore. You need to see that."

Obi-Wan looked down. "You think this is just a part of him getting older, then?" he asked. The thought that Anakin was intentionally distancing himself hurt.

His friend nodded. "Things are changing. He's getting older. He's starting to see things differently, to have new thoughts and ideas. He probably wants some privacy, and that's why he's been shielding. And he may have simply outgrown his love for tinkering. Our interests and hobbies change as we get older, you know. I really don't think you should be concerned."

"What should I do, then?"

Garen shrugged. "Back off. Give him some space and time. After a while, he'll start talking and open the bond again. He's probably just trying to sort out all of the new thoughts and feelings that come with the glorious period of life known as puberty."

Obi-Wan laughed. "I guess you're right, Garen. Thanks. I'll let you go meditate now."

"Anytime, helicopter-master," Garen teased. 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

* * *

The disks weren't in the bedroom. Go figure. Why did his life have to be so difficult? Frustrated, he headed to the Senate building. One way or another, he would get his hands on those disks. He had to. For his friends' sake, he had to, he reminded himself. It was better than letting them die, right? Still, he felt his stomach twist with guilt. He did his best to push it aside, and came up with a plan to get the holodisks. He would be late for lunch, but he would tell his master that he'd been spending time with the chancellor and had lost track of time. There. That wouldn't cause suspicion, since he'd often done it in the past. He shuddered at the thought now. How could Palpatine do this? He shook his head, not wanting to think about it.

When Breha went to eat lunch, he went into her office and hastily searched it. There. He found the three small disks in a locked drawer. He'd had to pick the lock, but that was fine. He had the disks. Quickly, he grabbed them and hurried to meet Obi-Wan for lunch.

That night, when Obi-Wan had finally gone to sleep, he pulled the disks out. He copied their information onto a blank disk, which he hid under the carpet under his bed. Then, he hurried to give the originals to the chancellor.

* * *

The old man snatched them, then smiled cruelly. "Tut-tut, my boy," he said. "What kind of Jedi does this make you?" He laughed. "You're worthless," he hissed. "Completely and utterly worthless. A cringing lowly _slave._ " Anakin didn't respond. It was true. He was a slave to this man. And he certainly didn't feel like a "protector of peace and justice" right now. More like a protector of murderers and crooks. "It's true, isn't it?" the chancellor pressed. "Isn't it?" When the boy didn't reply, he slapped him. "Answer me." Anakin swallowed. Palpatine threw him to the ground. "Say it," he growled. "Say that you're nothing more than a worthless pathetic slave." He knocked over the desk, slamming it onto the boy. Anakin felt something in his chest crack as white-hot pain exploded inside of him. "Say it!" the old man screamed, slamming the desk on him again.

"I- I'm . . ." Anakin choked out, gasping for breath. 

"Say. It. Now!" Palpatine ordered, ruthlessly pressing down on the desk that now lay on top of the young teenager.

"I'm a sl-slave . . ." he gasped. The pain was blinding him. 

Palpatine stalked over to him. "That's not what I ordered you to say," he remarked softly, digging his fingers into the boy's side.

Anakin cried out and writhed helplessly on the ground. "Please," he gasped. "Pl-please."

Palpatine continued his brutal torture. "Say it."

He felt his mental shields slip just a tiny bit before he slammed them up again desperately. "I'm a-a worth-ahh! A worthless . . .p-path . . ." He rasped out. "Pathetic . . . sl . . . slave."

Palpatine grinned. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He stood up. "Pick up that desk and get out of here."

Struggling, Anakin did as he was told. Then he dragged himself to his room and collapsed onto the bed.

* * *

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, briefly, thinking he'd felt Anakin screaming in pain through their bond for the briefest second. But it was gone faster than it came, and he was more than half asleep. So he shook his head, mumbled something incoherent, and fell back asleep before he could form an intelligent thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . please let me know what you guys thought! Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is free of violence and suicidal thoughts. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Anakin awoke, gasping and groaning. His chest _hurt_. It felt like he'd been chewed up by a rancor and spat back out. Twice. Slowly, he sat up. The effort left him sweating and trembling. No way in the galaxy was he going to classes like this. He gingerly pulled off his tunic to inspect his chest. It was bruised and mottled with bluish, purplish, red, and brown splotches. It was also swollen. He cursed under his breath. He might be able to skip classes, but he still had meditation and lightsaber training with Obi-Wan. How was he going to hide this? He had to. Somehow, he had to find a way. 

Gritting his teeth, he slowly pushed himself up to a standing position and tried unsuccessfully to even out his breathing. Then he limped painfully to the fresher. He applied bacta to his bruised flesh and swallowed about five painkillers. He sat still for a moment, giving them time to kick in. Soon, the pain was manageable, though it still hurt. He put a few extra painkillers in his pocket for use throughout the day, then put everything away and went to join his master.

"Morning!" Obi-Wan greeted cheerfully. 

Anakin smiled back. "Morning," he returned.

"Sit down. Breakfast is ready."

Anakin did _not_ feel like eating. Or drinking. He was one-hundred and ten percent sure that he would just end up throwing it up anyway. But if he didn't eat, Obi-Wan would get worried and haul him off to the healers, which, given his current situation, was unacceptable. So he smiled. "Actually, master," he said. "If you don't mind, I'm going to take my breakfast with me and eat it while I walk to classes. I want to get there early to catch up on some reading."

His master laughed. "Alright. You can take an egg burrito."

Anakin took it and left, guilt filling him. He'd just lied to Obi-Wan's face. He shook his head, reminding himself that it was for his master's own good. He left the temple and sat on the edge of the roof of a skyscraper, watching the bustling city. He fed the burrito to a few birds that were hopping around inquisitively. They flew away when he ran out of food for them. _Wish I could, too._ He thought miserably. _Fly far way from Palpatine and never return. Fly away and be truly free._ He sighed and left the building. Daydreaming wouldn't help him. 

He glanced at the time. Gunray's trial would be beginning in a few minutes. He would, of course, be found innocent. Because of him. The thought made him feel sick with guilt and anger. Palpatine was right. He was pathetic. A worthless Jedi. After wandering around aimlessly for a while he realized that it was almost time to meet Obi-Wan for lightsaber practice. He swallowed a few more painkillers and headed home.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed as his padawan left their quarters. He really hoped Anakin wasn't over-working himself with his studies. At least he was eating, though. Smiling with satisfaction, he went to meditate.

* * *

"Hey, Obi, have you heard the news?" Reeft called out. 

Obi-Wan looked up at his old friend. "What news?"

"Gunray was found innocent."

"Really?" Obi-Wan was shocked. "I was certain he was guilty." 

"Me too," Reeft agreed. "But there was no evidence against him."

"Well," Obi-Wan said. "I suppose there's nothing more to be done, then."

"Yeah," Reeft nodded. "It's crazy, though. Almost everyone was sure he was the one behind the murder."

"I know."

His friend shrugged. "Whatever. Want to come over for lunch?"

Obi-Wan considered it. Anakin would eat at the cafeteria anyway. "I'd be delighted."

During the meal, Reeft asked, "So, anything new? Garen's been talking about you having some issues with Anakin."

"Not issues," he corrected. "Well, not anymore. I was just worried about him. He's changing. I guess it's only natural that his interests change too, you know. Besides, he's fine. He's been eating and sleeping well, and he's acting fine."

Reeft nodded. "Glad to hear it, Obi."

Obi-Wan hesitated a moment, then said, "You want to know something strange?"

"What?"

"Well, you know I normally don't dream much. But last night, I did. I had a dream that I woke up and Anakin was screaming over our bond. That's all I remember, though."

Reeft shrugged. "Strange. It's probably because you've been all stressed out, worrying about him."

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "Yes, that's what I thought."

* * *

Lightsaber practice had been torture. He'd barely managed to keep up with Obi-Wan and maintain his shields, even with the painkillers. But he'd done it. Somehow, he'd managed. Thank the force.

"Anakin! Dinner!"

Blast it. He hadn't eaten all day. He knew he had to if he wanted to heal, though, so he forced it down, while Obi-Wan chattered on about how Reeft had told him that the viceroy had been found innocent and how he'd been so sure he was guilty. Suddenly, Anakin couldn't take it anymore. He excused himself and went to the bathroom where he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. As he was gagging, he felt something explode in his chest and burning, searing pain shot through his chest. That couldn't be good. Stifling a groan, he cleaned up and rejoined his master. Together, they did the dishes and meditated before Anakin retired. He couldn't sleep though. The feelings of guilt, shame, and anger coupled with the scalding pain in his chest, kept him awake. He forced himself to lie still so Obi-Wan didn't hear him, and focused on trying to calm his ragged breathing. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay . . . Please let me know what you thought. Nobody's really been commenting, and it's starting to get a bit discouraging. I really appreciate any feedback, guys. Thanks!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Another chapter down. This one does have some violence towards the end, but I don't think it's anywhere near as bad as the last violence scene. Still, I'm just letting you know. Hope you enjoy it!

Anakin woke up, gasping. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move. Blast it all, it even hurt to just _lie_ there and do _nothing_. His chest was heaving and his breath was ragged. This was very bad. He struggled to his feet and dragged himself to the fresher to swallow more painkillers and reapply bacta to his chest. 

A few minutes later, the excruciating pain in his chest had been reduced to a dull, throbbing ache. Thank the galaxy for whoever had invented pain meds. He cooked breakfast for Obi-Wan, knowing that his stomach would not hold down food. His master entered as he was putting the food on the table. 

"Good morning, Anakin," he greeted. "Sleep well?" Anakin nodded. Obi-Wan frowned. "Why is there only one plate?" he asked as he looked at the table. Anakin wasn't going to start skipping meals again, was he?

Anakin put on a cheery smile. "Oh, it's for you. I'm leaving early for classes again, so I ate earlier."

Obi-Wan smiled. "Don't overwork yourself, young one," he warned. "It's not good for you."

"Don't worry, master, I'm fine," his apprentice reassured him. Then he left.

* * *

Anakin skipped classes again. He really didn't think he could handle it. The last thing he wanted was to collapse in front of everyone. That would not be good. At all. Besides, he had a nasty feeling that Palpatine was going to summon him today. The mere thought made his legs feel shaky. He was terrified of the man he had one considered one of his closest friends. Listlessly, he watched the endless Coruscant traffic speed by. All of those innocent lives were being controlled by a madman. By an evil sadist. By a raving lunatic. And there was nothing he could do about it. Rage flooded his veins. He should be able to help them! To fix this! He was a Jedi, for force's sake! _Are you really?_ A dark voice asked him. _Because last I checked, Jedi don't go around intentionally shielding a murderer._ He shoved the thought down. It was done. The past was in the past. He groaned as a knife-like pain spread through his chest. Painkillers were about to become his best friend.

* * *

_"Master Obi-Wan?" the young blonde boy asked timidly._

_"Yes, young one?"_

_"Do you trust me?"_

_He hesitated. Wait, why was he hesitating? Then he finally answered, "Yes."_

_The boy looked down. "Why?"_

_"Because you are my padawan. You have never lied to me or hidden anything from me. You have given me every reason to trust you."_

_Suddenly, the boy was older, less innocent. "Is that what you think?" he asked softly. And for some reason, Obi-Wan was afraid. Terrified. Anakin laughed harshly. "Well, you're wrong. I've lied to your face more often than you know. I have hidden things that you have never dreamed of. What do you think now? Do you still trust me?"_

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Well, that was strange. He'd been meditating when he'd suddenly had that vision. Did it mean something? Was it important? Suddenly he realized it was time to meet Anakin for lightsaber practice. He got ready to go; the vision could wait.

* * *

Block, strike, block, parry, block. Anakin was struggling to keep the pain in his chest from leaking out through their bond. Block, block, parry, block. How long was this duel going to last? Block, parry, block, block, strike. His limbs were trembling with exertion. Strike, parry, blo . . . the teenager collapsed, his master's blade frozen millimeters from his neck. 

Obi-Wan powered down his weapon. "Padawan," he asked. "Is something wrong?" It usually wasn't this easy to beat Anakin. 

The boy looked down. "No, master. I'm sorry. It's just . . . I'm kinda tired."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I told you not to wear yourself out, young one." Anakin didn't reply. "Very well, let's go home and get some rest."

* * *

Anakin's "nasty feeling" turned out to be true. Blast his life. It was midnight when the chancellor had called and said one word. "Come." That was it. Anakin felt sick. What was the psycho planning now? What would he have him do this time. And what would he do to him in the process? He stomach was churning with fear. Silently, he left the Temple and met the chancellor.

"You certainly took your time," the old man said. Anakin looked down. "Any explanation?" he pressed.

The boy still wouldn't meet his eyes. "Traffic was bad," he mumbled.

Palpatine slapped him. He didn't even flinch. He was getting used to this kind of treatment. "Liar," he hissed. Anakin didn't respond. The chancellor narrowed his eyes. "New job for you, my boy," he said softly. "Are you excited?" The boy remained silent. Palpatine yanked his braid. "Tell me you're excited," he growled.

"I'm excited," Anakin said dully. He was fighting the urge to shudder.

"Hmm," the chancellor patted his cheek condescendingly. "You're a very bad boy, you know that? You know you're a bad Jedi, don't you?" Anakin fought to keep the tears away. "Answer," the old man commanded.

"Yes, master." His mind was reeling with shame, fury, guilt, and disgust. He cursed the day he met this man.

Palpatine chuckled. "Good. You're learning. Anyway, about your new job. A friend of mine is trying to get into politics and become governor of his district. The only problem is, he has a criminal record. You're job is to get forged papers for him, aquitting him of his crimes." 

The world swayed around him. Palpatine was going to appoint a _criminal_ as _governor_. What was the galaxy coming to? He started hyperventilating. "S-Master," he whimpered. "Please. Please don't ask this of me. He's a criminal . . . Gunray was bad enough. Please don't . . ."

Palpatine swiftly punched him in the chest. His breath hitched and he fell to his knees. "I'm not _asking_ anything," he spat.

"Please," Anakin begged. How could he continue to help criminals? Didn't that make him a criminal? Force, he just wanted it to end. He was a Jedi. _Are you?_ "Don't make me do this. I just want . . ."

Palpatine shoved him up against the wall, twisting his arm and digging into the boy's chest with his knee. Anakin cried out in pain, chest heaving. "I don't care what you want," the chancellor hissed in his ear. "You are a slave. You do as I command. Don't you _ever_ forget that. You will get those documents or say goodbye to Kenobi. Understand?" Anakin nodded, gasping and writhing in the old man's grasp. " _Understand_?"

"Y-yes . . . master." 

Palpatine released him. "Good. Now get lost."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay . . . so there it is. The next chapter should be up soon. As always, please let me know what you thought. Your feedback is always appreciated!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. Another chapter down. This one is free of violence. Hope you guys enjoy!

"Anakin, are you alright?" Obi-Wan asked worriedly. The boy's breathing seemed . . . labored. 

Anakin smiled tightly from across the table, picking at his breakfast. "Yeah, why?"

Somehow, Obi-Wan didn't believe that. "Come here, young one," he beckoned.

Anakin tensed. "I'm fine," he said sharply. 

His master frowned at the unexpected reaction. "I didn't say you weren't," he said slowly. 

The boy relaxed slightly. "Yeah, but you were going to," he pointed out.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Anakin, pardon me for being concerned when you show up to breakfast panting like a dehydrated akk," he snapped. Honestly, why couldn't this kid just talk to him? Why did he have to pretend to be invincible? 

Anakin gave a forced laugh. "Oh, that's what you're worried about?" he asked dismissively. "That's nothing. I was working out before I came down."

The older Jedi leaned back in his chair. His gut was telling him to push this. That his padawan was hiding something. But then he remembered Garen's advice. _Back off. Give him some space and time. He's growing up now. When he's ready, he'll talk._ He sighed. "Oh, okay. Just . . . never mind. Have a good day at classes."

The teenager gave another tight smile and nodded before departing.

* * *

"Good day?" Anakin scoffed to himself after he left. "I haven't had a good day in over two weeks. And as far as classes . . . I kinda have other things to do." 

He headed to the Coruscant underworld. Obi-Wan had noticed. This pain in his chest wasn't getting any better. In fact, it was getting worse. The only thing that was keeping him on his feet was the painkillers. He carried some with him everywhere he went. But Obi-Wan had still noticed. This was not good. His master knew him too well. If he found out the truth . . .

Not wanting to think about it, he entered a local bar. All kinds of scum were there. Drug addicts, alcoholics, bounty hunters, illegal arms dealers. He went and sat down in a corner. He had to find someone who could forge him some documents. Forcing down the guilt, pain, and self-loathing, he started to ask around.

* * *

Grithon. That was the name that half-drunk rhodian had given him. Grithon. Where the blazes was he supposed to find this guy? He didn't even know his species. Doubtless, he lived in the darkest, dirtiest, most disgusting place Coruscant had to offer. He mentally groaned. Why couldn't his life just be easy for once?

He stopped a filthy Besalisk walking by. "Hey, pal," he muttered. "I need some info."

The Besalisk guffawed. "Get yer hands off me, boy," he bellowed. "Or I'll sock ya." He raised a huge fist. 

Anakin quickly pressed his lightsaber against the Besalisk's ribs. "I wouldn't do that," he warned.

The Besalisk dropped his fist. "Fine. Whaddaya want, boy?"

"Do you know where I can find a man named Grithon?"

The Besalisk stiffened. "What's that to you, eh?"

Anakin pressed harder on the lightsaber. "Just. Tell. Me."

The Besalisk huffed. "Ya, I know 'im."

"Where can I find him?"

"Eightieth level. Apartment building nine. Floor 3. Room 207. Happy?"

Anakin removed his weapon. "Thanks." Then he left. Eightieth level. The hive of villiany. Oh, joy.

* * *

The apartment was old, dark, dirty, and infested with rodents. A couple of drugged people were sprawled on the street. He quickened his pace. Floor 3, room 207. He knocked. Silence. He knocked again. Someone shuffled up to the other side of the door. He knocked a third time. The door opened the tiniest bit. "Who's there?" a raspy voice asked.

"A customer."

The door opened, and a hunched Zabrak let him in. The place was filthy. Stained carpet, torn sofa, insects on the counter. All of the lights were dimmed. "What do you need?" Grithon asked gruffly. 

"I need you to forge some documents." He quickly explained exactly what he needed. 

"Five hundred credits," the Zabrak said.

Blast it. How had he not foreseen this? He didn't have any money on him. He stood. "Alright. Now that I know your price and where to find you, I'll come back when I have the credits. Deal?"

The criminal grinned. "Deal. I'll give you the documents when you give me the credits."

* * *

Obi-Wan groaned as he entered their apartments. Anakin hadn't returned. It had been a long day. The master had returned from a long Council meeting in which they'd been debating who should take over the junior padawan astrophysics class. Then he'd written up three reports. Added to that was his nagging worry about his apprentice, who hadn't shown up for lightsaber practice. All of it had left him with a massive headache.

"I'll lecture Anakin later," he decided wearily, heading to the fresher. Maybe he should take a painkiller. At least then he'd be able to meditate properly. If Anakin even showed up for meditation, that is.

He stared in shock at the bottle. It was over halfway empty. There was no way in the galaxy he'd used that many painkillers. He'd bought these a month ago! How were they so low? Unless . . . his vision from the day before flashed through his mind. _I've lied to your face more often than you know. I have hidden things you have never dreamed of._ Then he recalled the boy's labored breathing this morning. "I'm going to kill that kid," he growled, slamming the cabinet shut.

* * *

Anakin glanced at the time. Six o'clock!?! How? Suddenly a thought struck him. He was supposed to have met Obi-Wan for lightsaber practice two hours ago. Oh, blast. He would have run, but the pain in his chest prevented him. So he settled for walking rapidly to the Temple. Maybe if he made it in time for meditation, Obi-Wan wouldn't be too upset. Who was he kidding? His master was going to kill him.

* * *

His master was standing in the living room, arms crossed, eyes glaring. Anakin gulped. Obi-Wan looked _furious._ The last time Anakin had seen him like this was . . . never. Not even when he'd mouthed off to the whole Council, calling them the biggest gang of imbeciles he'd ever seen, while being reprimanded for fighting with another padawan. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Uhh, hi, master," he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Why are you just . . . standing there?"

Obi-Wan's eyes looked ready to eject laser beams. 

Anakin shifted uncomfortably. "Okay, okay," he sighed, raising his hands in surrender. "I know. I'm late. Like, really late. I'm really, really sorry. I kinda . . . lost track of time. I, well, it's . . . complicated. I was out, seeing a . . . friend. And, uh, then . . . he, well I mean, I . . . didn't realize how late it was . . . You see, I was . . ."

"Sit down, young one." Anakin flinched. Obi-Wan's voice was harder and colder than Hoth's core. 

"Master . . ."

"I said sit down!" Anakin's breath hitched. His vision started swimming. Memories assaulted his mind . . . Chancellor Palpatine . . . that was how this whole mess had started . . . the locked door . . . "I'll be leaving now, sir." . . . the chancellor's anger . . . "Sit down, Skywalker." . . . the uneasiness rapidly turning to fear . . . "Sir . . ." . . . "I said sit down!" Obi-Wan . . . Palpatine . . . he couldn't . . . 

He let out a strangled noise and ran to his room, locking himself in. Then, panicking, he used the force to shove the bed, dresser, and workbench against the door. He fell to his knees, heart racing, hyperventilating. Breathe. He was . . . fine. Right? No, he was not fine. He was far from fine. Obi-Wan was pounding on the door, shouting something. He couldn't take this. He just couldn't. "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" he screamed, feeling something burst in his chest. "GO AWAY!!!" He broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. He was a failure. A disappointment. Obi-Wan would find out and Palpatine would kill everyone. He couldn't even protect his friends. It was over. He couldn't. He'd failed. Gasping and crying, he succumbed to unconsciousness despite the burning pain in his chest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So . . . yeah. Anakin has really gotten himself in a tight situation here . . . What did you guys think?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. No violence in this chapter either. 
> 
> The beginning of this chapter is the ending of the last chapter, only from Obi-Wan's POV instead of Anakin's. Hope you like it!

Obi-Wan was furious. He was doing his best to keep it under control, though. Yelling at Anakin was not going to help him get to the bottom of this. The boy was stuttering out some wild explanation as to why he was late. Like he was concerned about that at the moment. No, he wanted to know how and why his apprentice had managed to go through over half a bottle of painkillers in less than a month. And more importantly, why he hadn't told his master about it. The teenager was still stammering on with his explanation. Something about a friend or something. Whatever. It didn't matter. They needed to talk. Now. "Sit down, young one," he commanded.

"Master . . ."

"I said sit down!" Anger was quickly replaced by shock when he saw the boy's reaction. He turned white, his eyes widened, and he stumbled backwards. He started hyperventilating. "Anakin," he reached out in concern. What the blazes was going on? Anakin let out a strange noise, somewhere between a cough and a gasp. Then, before Obi-Wan could stop him, he bolted to his room, slamming the door. Obi-Wan quickly tried to open it, but the boy had already locked it. He heard scraping sounds from inside, like Anakin was dragging furniture. 

"Anakin!" He banged on the door. "Anakin open this door. Anakin! I mean it, padawan. Anakin!" The scraping continued. What the galaxy was he doing in there? "Anakin, I'm serious. We need to talk! Anakin! Open up!"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!! GO AWAY!!!" 

He stumbled back in shock. Anakin had _never_ pushed him away like that. His voice was mingled with anger, pain, shame, and . . . fear? What the blazes was the boy afraid of. Him? Force, he hoped not. What had he done to the boy? He could hear Anakin sobbing. He stared at the door, completely stunned. Then, realizing Anakin wasn't coming out, he went to his own room to clear his thoughts.

* * *

Anakin opened his eyes. He was slumped on the floor of his room. For some reason, all of his furniture was piled against the door. Then he remembered. Last night. Obi-Wan. Oh, blast. He wasn't sure why he'd reacted so violently. That one simple sentence had sent him into a full blown panic attack. He groaned and held his head in his hands. Life just got a whole lot more difficult. Now, in addition to dealing with Palpatine and his horrific demands, he had to somehow convince his master that he was fine. Oh, and not to mention the fact that he had to pull up five hundred credits to help a criminal become governor. Yeah. Blast his life. 

He sighed quietly, then stood up. His chest hurt even more now. Instantly, his hand flew to his pocket. He had two pills left. He swallowed them. He was going to need all his strength to convince Obi-Wan that nothing was wrong. He slowly reorganized his room, then stared at the locked door. He didn't want to leave his room. He wanted to stay here forever, far away from Palpatine and his problems. To lock himself up and never come out again. But he couldn't. He had to come out sooner or later, and each minute he waited would only make it harder. Sighing, he opened the door. 

Obi-Wan was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looked drained. His eyes, when he looked up at him, were dull and sad. "Anakin."

Anakin looked down. "Master," he mumbled.

Obi-Wan sighed, then patted the seat next to him. Obediently, Anakin sat. He stared at the floor. "Anakin," his master began. "Anakin, what happened yesterday?"

Anakin closed his eyes. "I'm . . . I . . . overreacted. I'm sorry, master. I just . . . I was . . ."

"You were afraid," Obi-Wan said flatly.

Anakin swallowed. Blast it. He couldn't lie to Obi-Wan about that. Even a child could have seen that he was terrified. "Yes, master."

"Why?" Obi-Wan's voice sounded so heartbroken. "Why, Anakin? What have I _ever_ done to you that you would . . ."

"No, master," Anakin interrupted. "Don't. It wasn't you. I just . . . I was afraid you'd be disappointed in me 'cause I totally forgot about training."

Obi-Wan looked up. Well, that, in any case, was believable. "Anakin, we all make mistakes. I was annoyed, yes, but that did not change my opinion of you."

"I . . . thank you, master." Anakin got up to leave. He had a lot to do. 

"Anakin." He stopped. "Anakin, we need to talk about something else." Anakin suddenly felt sick. 

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Where have all of the painkillers been going, padawan?"

It was like a punch to the gut. Oh, boy. He had _not_ been expecting this. He smirked shyly. "Umm, well, I found this bird a few weeks ago. It had a broken wing. It looked like it hurt a lot, so I've been grinding up painkillers and adding it to it's food. I'm sorry, master. I guess I should've told you. Don't worry, though. The bird's gone. I released it two days ago."

Obi-Wan laughed. "You're just like Qui-Gon," he said wistfully. Then he smiled. "Alright, you can go. But next time, Anakin, please tell me what's going on. And try to keep track of the time."

Anakin smiled back. "Yes, master."

* * *

Anakin walked away, shaking his head. That had been easier than expected. Now for the hard part. Where to get five hundred credits? He skipped classes again and headed back to the Coruscant underworld. One way or another, he had to get that money. ~~~~

* * *

Obi-Wan watched his apprentice head out for classes. He sighed quietly, thinking about their conversation. While he was honored that Anakin valued his opinion so much, he was also worried. It was clear as day now. Anakin was putting himself under intense pressure to not disappoint him. It was leading to him being under massive amounts of stress, which was leading to explosions like the one last night. The boy needed to relax and realize that he didn't have to push himself so hard. It wasn't healthy to be under that much stress. Maybe Obi-Wan expected too much from him? Maybe he was too stern? He didn't know. It was just another example of how unprepared to train a padawan he was. Sighing heavily, he got up to leave.

* * *

"Looks like I win again," Anakin observed. He was playing sabaac with a few other men in a bar. Cursing and grumbling, they handed him the money. There. Five hundred credits. It had taken him hours to earn it, but he had. Gathering it up, he headed for the eightieth level. 

* * *

Obi-Wan studied his apprentice carefully during dinner. He was talking and eating normally. He looked tired, but after last night's episode, that was to be expected. Satisfied, he leaned back and enjoyed the rest of the meal.

* * *

Anakin hid the papers under his mattress. He put up a show for Obi-Wan, pretending like he totally wasn't participating in illegal activities, namely getting fake papers of aquittal for a ruthless criminal. That night, he woke up coughing. His chest was on fire. He felt something wet on his hand. Closer observation told him that he'd just coughed up blood. Not good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know. This one was kinda short. The next one will be longer. I think.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay . . . this chapter has some pretty messed up stuff. It's not graphic, but still, please read the tags. Hope you enjoy it!

The next morning passed in a haze of pain. He didn't dare take any more painkillers, lest Obi-Wan find out. Unfortunately, that left him with intense pain shooting through his chest every time he moved or breathed. He couldn't focus on a single thing his master was saying, so he just remained silent and nodded at random intervals. 

"See you after classes, young one," Obi-Wan said. He forced himself to his feet and walked out. Classes. In this state? Yeah, right.

He had to take something for this pain. There was no way in the galaxy he'd be able to survive lightsaber training like this. _Come on, Skywalker, think. What can you do to solve this?_ As usual, a plan hatched quickly in his mind. It would be risky, but when were his plans not? 

Sneaking into the halls of healing was easy. He'd simply slipped past the inattentive padawan at the front desk. Now for the trickier part. He cautiously made his way to the med lab. He quickly hacked the password on the door to let himself in. Thirty seconds later, he was walking away with a bottle of painkillers hidden in his cloak. Now he had to get out of here without being noticed. The ventilation system was the perfect escape route. 

Soon the pain had dulled enough for him to focus on the world around him. Thank the force. He stopped by his quarters long enough to grab the illegal papers, then headed straight for the Senate Building. Hopefully, _he_ would be at a meeting or something and he'd be able to drop the papers off and get the blazes out of there without even seeing _him._

* * *

No such luck. The psycho was waiting for him with a predatory leer that Anakin did not like at all. Swallowing his fear, the boy shuffled up and placed the papers on the desk. Then as quickly as he could, he turned and started walking. 

"Anakin." The teenager froze. _No._ He silently begged. _No. Please. Please, just let me go. Leave me alone. Please._ "Come here."

Slowly, eyes glued to the floor, he obeyed. Palpatine snaked a hand over his shoulder. Anakin shuddered and drew back. "Come here, boy," Palpatine repeated, roughly dragging him forward by his braid. 

The old man smirked. "You fear me, don't you, Anakin?" he asked softly, twirling the braid around his fingers. "Don't you?" He yanked on the braid. 

Anakin whimpered. "Please, si-master. Please just let me go."

The chancellor laughed. "But Anakin," he said teasingly, "I haven't had any fun yet."

Anakin's legs went weak. He started hyperventilating, which hurt his chest even more. "No. P-please, I . . ."

"Turn around and get on your knees," Palpatine ordered. Anakin obeyed, trembling. "If you resist," Palpatine hissed in his ear, "I swear I will kill everyone you care about before the day is through. Understand?"

"Y-y-yes, master."

* * *

Obi-Wan was meditating in the sitting room when he heard a knock on the door. Sighing, he rose and answered it. "Master Trila," he greeted in surprise. What was his padawan's history teacher doing here? "Come in." 

The Mirialan master entered and sat on the couch. Obi-Wan sat next to her. "I have come to speak to you about your padawan," she said.

Obi-Wan frowned. "What did he do now? He hasn't been fighting again, has he?"

She shook her head. "No, master Kenobi. He simply hasn't been showing up."

He drew back, stunned. "What?"

"He has not come to class in over a week. I spoke with his other teachers, and they told me he has been doing the same thing in their classes."

Obi-Wan leaned back. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, master Trila," he said. "I will speak to him."

She nodded and rose to leave. "Thank you, master Kenobi," she said before departing.

Anakin hadn't attended classes in over a week. What the blazes? Why? What happened? What was going on? Another thought presented itself to his mind. If Anakin hadn't been in classes all that time, then where _had_ he been? He closed his eyes and groaned. That boy was going to be the death of him.

* * *

Anakin fled homeward, charged past the startled group of padawans, pushed between two baffled Knights, ran into his room, slammed the door, locked it, and collapsed onto the bed sobbing violently. Palpatine had . . . he shivered and curled up tightly on himself. He was still sobbing uncontrollably. A violent coughing fit left his pillow sprayed with blood. He'd just been _raped, violated,_ by a man he'd once considered one of his only true friends. Anger, disgust, shame, pain, and guilt tore through him, shrieking in his mind, harsh and accusing. He wanted to die. Really, he did.

Well, that wasn't completely true. He didn't want to die and leave his friends unprotected. That was unacceptable. He hadn't come this far to die and leave them in the hands of a monster. He sat up, tears still leaking out of his eyes. His whole body hurt. And he had lightsaber training in twenty minutes. Wonderful. Sniffling, he took more pills, washed his face, straightened his robes, and redid his braid. Time to put on a show. He triple-checked his shields, then headed calmly to the dojo.

* * *

He lay on his back on the mat, drenched in sweat and struggling not to cough. He did _not_ want to hack up blood in front of his master. The only reason he hadn't collapsed while fighting was because Obi-Wan had seemed oddly distracted during the sparring session.

"We're done," the man said, powering down his weapon. Anakin nodded but didn't move. "Come on, Anakin," the master snapped. "Let's get home. Unless you plan on staring at the ceiling for the rest of the evening." The teenager closed his eyes before heaving himself up. He hoped Obi-Wan hadn't seen him wince. When he looked up, though, his master was already walking away. Wearily, he followed. 

They arrived home, and Anakin walked straight to his room. He flinched and froze as Obi-Wan laid a hand on his shoulder. "Wait a moment, young one," he said firmly.

Anakin carefully removed himself from the man's touch. "Yeah?" he asked.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Master Trila came to see me today," he informed the boy.

Anakin's breath caught. Blast. Oh, blast. This. Was. Bad. "Yeah?" he asked again, trying to stay calm.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed. "You know where I'm getting with this." His apprentice looked down, tears stinging at his eyes. "Why, padawan?" his master asked. "Why? What's going on? You've always been a good student before now."

Anakin was _so tempted_ to tell him. To spill everything and hope that Obi-Wan would make all the hurt and guilt go away. To curl up in his arms and let him soothe away all his fears. He almost did. He nearly broke down and confessed everything. But he _couldn't._ Because that would mean losing the person who had become his older brother in all but blood. So he stared resolutely at the ground and remained silent.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Talk to me, Anakin. What's going on? Why don't you trust me anymore?" He sounded so crushed, so hurt, that for a moment, the boy's resolution wavered. But only for a moment. "Anakin?"

Anakin looked up. "I . . . I can't," he whispered. 

Obi-Wan looked searchingly at him. "Why not? You can _always_ come to me, young one. I've told you this too many times to count. _Trust_ me."

Anakin's words got stuck in his throat. He was hurting his master, tearing a hole in his heart. But it had to be done. For his own good, it had to be done. He firmly shook his head. "I don't want to talk," he said.

Obi-Wan drew back, shaking his head. "I cannot help you if you refuse to tell me what's wrong, padawan."

"I don't want your help."

It was probably the biggest lie he'd ever told, and it shattered his heart. He did want Obi-Wan's help. He wanted it more than anything. But it wasn't an option. Not now.

His master breathed a sigh of resignation. "Very well, Anakin. I cannot force you to speak. But I expect you to attend each and every one of your classes from now on. Is that clear?"

Anakin swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yes, master."

* * *

"I don't want your help."

That sentence said it all. His padawan no longer trusted him. For whatever reason, a rift had grown between them. Anakin was pushing him away, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. It was extremely frustrating. What had he done to push the boy away? A month ago, everything had been fine. He racked his brain, trying to find something, _anything_ , that could have started this. But he found nothing. And Anakin wouldn't talk. But he needed to talk to _somebody._ It wasn't good for him to keep it all bottled up. Grimacing, Obi-Wan left the apartment. He didn't like this idea at all, but Anakin needed to confide in someone.

* * *

The chancellor greeted him with courtesy, if a little bit of surprise. "Master Kenobi. What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor?"

Obi-Wan sat down and sighed. He didn't want to do this, but Anakin trusted this man. "It's about Anakin," he began. 

"Ah, how is he?" Palpatine inquired warmly. "I haven't seen him for quite a while."

"I wish I could say he was doing well," the Jedi said. 

The old man's eyebrows shot up. "Indeed?" he asked anxiously. "Whatever is the matter?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "I don't know. He won't tell me. He's been skipping classes, losing his appetite, not sleeping well, and just acting strangely. And he refuses to confide in me. I know you two are good friends. Please, your excellency, talk to him. Try to get him to open up. It's not good for him to bottle up all his feelings."

The chancellor nodded sympathetically. "Send him over tomorrow afternoon. I'll talk to him. I do hope he'll trust me; he's usually such a bright boy. It pains me to think of him in trouble."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said, rising to depart. "I appreciate it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Poor Obi has no idea that he literally just turned to the LAST person Anakin is going to trust. "Facepalm"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, this chapter has more violence and mentioned rape. I hope you like it!

"Well, well, well," a taunting voice drawled. "If it isn't Skywalker."

Anakin rolled his eyes and kept walking to his next class. 

The huge Rhodian grabbed his arm. Anakin tensed and flung it off. "Aww, whassa matter? You don't wanna talk to me?" the Rhodian padawan asked, grabbing his arm again.

"Get off, Zieth," Anakin growled. 

Zieth grabbed his other arm and spun him around to face him. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Temper, Skywalker," he said jeeringly. 

Anakin couldn't breathe. All he could see or feel was Palpatine, touching him, violating him. "Don't _touch_ me!" he yelled, jerking backwards. "Get off!"

Zieth smirked. "You scared of me? You are, aren't you?" he taunted. 

_You fear me, don't you, Anakin?_ "No!" He struggled in the huge padawan's grasp, fighting tears. "Let go!"

The Rhodian, seeing he'd found a weakness, pinned the boy up against a wall. "So, Skywalker," he hissed. "Where've you been for the past week and a half? You know, we were really hoping you'd left for good. Guess some things are too good to be true, eh?"

Fury and terror flooded through Anakin. "Get! Off!" He sent an enormous shock-wave of raw force power slamming into the bully's chest. Zieth flew into the wall so hard he broke a hole in it. Some debris crumbled around the scene. Anakin stood, panting and shaking. Force, he hadn't meant to lose control like that. It was just -

"What happened here?"

Both boys looked up to see Mace Windu towering over them with a thunderous expression. "He pushed me!" Zieth squeaked.

"Skywalker." Mace looked absolutely furious. "Come with me. Padawan Zieth, report to the medbay to make sure you have no injuries." 

Anakin numbly followed the Korun master into a small room. "Wait here." Mace instructed coldly. 

He was dimly aware of Mace calling Obi-Wan. His vision seemed to be going all foggy. It was getting harder to breathe by the minute. No! He couldn't pass out now! He fought against it with all his strength, drawing on the force to aid him. He succeeded. Barely. The door opened and Obi-Wan entered. Oh, blast. He was in deep trouble.

* * *

"You return to classes for the first time in over a week and the first thing you do is send your classmate crashing into a wall? Really, Anakin? I expect better from you."

Anakin sat sullenly on the couch and stared at the floor. "He was bothering me," he mumbled.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "That does not justify violence, padawan. You could have summoned a teacher."

Anakin bit his lip. "I couldn't . . . _think_ clearly. All I could see was . . . _him_."

"Then maybe you need to learn a bit more self-control," his master returned.

Anakin closed his eyes. His master didn't get it. And how could he? "Yes, master."

Obi-Wan sighed. Then he turned and said, "Anakin, look. Just . . . why don't you go see the chancellor? I know you enjoy his company and . . ."

"No!" Anakin leapt off the couch, wide-eyed and trembling. He quickly recovered, though. He forced a smile. "N-no. I . . . uh, can't."

"Why not, padawan?" Obi-Wan asked suspiciously.

"I have a lot of, um, homework . . . to, uh, catch up on, you know?"

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. Then he sighed. "Very well, padawan."

* * *

Obi-Wan watched his apprentice retire to his room, then sat down on the couch to think. Anakin's response to his suggestion to visit Palpatine was . . . unnerving. The boy _loved_ spending time with the old man. He _never_ passed up a chance to see him. It was odd. And then, he'd tried to hide his anxiety, and pretend he just had a lot of schoolwork. But he couldn't fool Obi-Wan. The boy had been afraid, no, _petrified_. And that made Obi-Wan very, _very_ , suspicious. Was it possible that all of this strange behavior was somehow linked with Palpatine? The idea was troubling. But if it was, then why hadn't Anakin bothered to tell anyone? It didn't make sense. He was missing something. Something big. And he was determined to find out exactly what it was.

* * *

Palpatine called him that night. Anakin almost refused to come. Almost. But he couldn't do that to his friends.

Upon his arrival, the old man grabbed him by the throat. "What did you tell Kenobi, boy?" he asked viciously. "What did you tell him?!?"

"Nothing!" Anakin cried, choking. "I swear! I didn't tell him anything about us!"

"Liar!" Palpatine hissed in his face. He seized a datapad and slammed it into Anakin's gut. "Liar! Why else would he come to see me? Why else!?!"

"Please! I didn't!"

Palpatine beat him with the datapad, then roughly drew him to his knees. "You'd better not have," he said dangerously. Then he grinned before raping the young teenager.

* * *

Anakin stumbled home and collapsed onto the bed. He couldn't take this anymore! He couldn't! Muffling his sobs with his pillow, he fought to keep his shields from slipping. Obi-Wan was in the next room. It would _not_ be good if he woke up to find him crying and coughing, covering his pillow with snot, tears, and blood. 

When he'd quieted down, he forced himself up and changed his pillowcase before crashing on the bed again. He didn't want to sleep. If he did, the nightmares would come. He didn't want to stay awake. If he did, he wouldn't be able to think about anything but _him_ and what he'd done. Soon, though, darkness claimed him and he slipped into an uneasy sleep filled with predators and demons.

* * *

Obi-Wan awoke to whimpering sounds coming from Anakin's room. He frowned and went to the boy's bed. The teenager was tossing fitfully and crying. "Please," he begged. "No. Don't!"

Obi-Wan touched his shoulder gently. "Anakin. Padawan, wake up." 

"No!" Anakin sobbed, arching away from his hand. "Please! Leave him alone!"

"Anakin! Padawan, it's just a dream! Wake up!" He shook the boy.

Anakin sat up with a gasp and coughed violently into his sheets. Obi-Wan steadied him. "Shh. It's okay, Anakin. It's okay. Just breathe. Okay? It's alright. It was just a dream." He soothingly rubbed the boy's back.

Anakin wanted to sob into his brother's shoulder and tell him everything. It would be so easy. He wanted to do it _so badly._ But, thanks to Palpatine, he couldn't. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Anakin shook his head. "I . . . I'm fine now. Thanks."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Anakin . . . Very, well. I'll be in my room if you need me." Anakin nodded and watched him go. Then he stripped the bloody sheets off the bed. It was a good thing Obi-Wan hadn't turned on the lights. If he had, he would have instantly seen the blood Anakin coughed up. But it was fine. Anakin's secret was safe. For now, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan is slowly putting the pieces together. This cannot be good for Palpatine. Hope you guys liked it!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys! I'm back! This chapter has mild violence in it. Hope you enjoy!

Anakin heaved himself out of bed. He felt like a zombie. Numbly, he ate breakfast, not even hearing a word Obi-Wan was saying. He dragged himself to classes and simply sat at his desk dazed, unable to break through the haze of pain and guilt that swirled around him. His head ached, his vision seemed distorted, and he couldn't register a single word that came out of the teacher's mouth. He knew he was reaching his breaking point. Sooner or later, his body was going to give out. He shook his head weakly, in a vain attempt to clear it. He had to do something about this. He couldn't collapse in front of them. They'd be on to him in seconds. 

"Padawan Skywalker!" He lifted his head and blinked slowly, trying to focus on the teacher. "Padawan Skywalker! For the fiftieth time, pay attention!"

"Yes, master," he replied automatically.

The Zabrak master frowned. "You didn't answer the question, Skywalker," the teacher said severely.

He frowned and blinked again. He must've missed something. "Question?"

"Who was Master Korithno?" the master snapped, obviously annoyed with him.

Master Korithno? Who the blazes was that? How was he supposed to know? Well, best to play it safe. "A Jedi master?" he guessed. He didn't even hear the teacher's response.

* * *

Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin was once again shutting him out. The boy hadn't said a word all morning, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. It was very frustrating. Something was definitely going on, but he didn't know what. His gut was pointing to Palpatine . . . especially after Anakin's vehement refusal to visit him. But how could he possibly be connected to this? Anakin hadn't even seen the old man since this behavior started. Sighing, he shook his head. Unless Anakin confided in him, there was nothing he could do.

* * *

Anakin was halfway to his next class when his commlink chimed. He immediately felt panic flare up. Forcing it down, he ducked into an empty room and answered it. "Come here instantly," Palpatine hissed. That was it. Groaning, the teenager left.

He reached the office thirty minutes later. As usual, Palpatine was waiting. "I've got a very important job for you, my boy," he said.

The way he said it made Anakin's stomach drop. This couldn't be good. 

"For months now, I've been trying to get a bill passed, but the senator from Ryloth keeps shutting it down. I need you to . . . exterminate, him."

Anakin choked and stumbled back. No! This couldn't be happening! The chancellor could not be asking what Anakin thought he was asking. There had to be some mistake. "Like . . . . as in . . ." he whispered, unwilling to believe it.

"As in kill him, boy!" Palpatine snapped. "I want it done by tomorrow night. And I want evidence that he's dead."

Anakin dropped to his knees. "Master," he gasped, fighting tears, " I _can't._ Please! I can't do this! It's . . ."

The old man kicked him in the chest. "I wasn't asking," he spat. "That was an order." He grabbed the boy by the collar. "Refuse to do it, and our little deal is over. Got it?"

Anakin whimpered. "But, isn't there another way? We can . . ."

Palpatine gave him a swift punch to the gut. "You will kill the senator by tomorrow night, and you will do it without complaint. Do I make myself cleat?"

Anakin looked down. He knew he wouldn't be able to do this. But, could he refuse? "Y-yes, master."

* * *

Obi-Wan had had enough. He was going to get to the bottom of this, whether Anakin told him or not. He sat down and got out a pen and paper. On it, he wrote a list of his padawan's recent behaivor. 

Stops eating for days at a time

Evidently stops sleeping well

Stops attending classes

Stops tinkering

Refuses to tell me where he's been

Refuses to see chancellor

Refuses to talk to me about anything

Insists he's fine (blatant lie)

Suddenly shies away from touch

Flips out when I try to talk to him

Keeps shields up permanently

He leaned back and studied the list. So far, three things were evident. 1) Something was seriously wrong with Anakin. 2) The boy was desperately trying to hide it. And 3) Something had happened to shake his padawan's trust in the chancellor. The only point he couldn't make sense of was the fact that Anakin no longer liked being touched in any way. It was all puzzling. No matter. He would figure it out. He knew the points were all connected somehow. He just had to figure out how. Maybe Anakin and the chancellor had argued, leading the boy to feel stressed, but he didn't want to drag Obi-Wan into that argument? No. Anakin's behavior was far too extreme for a simple argument. He leaned back, determined to solve the mystery.

* * *

Anakin left the office as fast as possible. He couldn't breathe; he couldn't think. What should he do? What _could_ he do? Hyperventilating, he headed homewards. He didn't want to kill anyone. But if he didn't stop Palpatine from killing his friends, wasn't that the same thing as killing _them_? His chest was burning with pain. He stumbled and violently coughed blood up onto the pavement. Gasping for air, he fell to his knees. The world went foggy and started spinning. The last thing he was aware of was throwing up before blackness overtook him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Palpatine had better watch out; Obi-Wan is on to him. He's slowly starting to connect the dots. I hope you guys liked it!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, this is the last chapter of this fic! Just so you know, there is some reference to rape and violence. I hope you like it!

When Anakin didn't return to their quarters that night, Obi-Wan grew _very_ worried. The force was warning him of something. What if the boy was in danger? He couldn't sense him, thanks to Anakin's shielding. He decided to give Anakin another hour before he went to look for him. Sighing, he sat down to think over the conclusions he'd come to. No matter what light he looked at it in, he always came to the same conclusion: this whole mess, some way or another, had started with Palpatine. Which, of course, meant that Palpatine knew what was wrong with Anakin from the start. 

"Blast it," he muttered. "This is why you never trust politicians." He drew on his cloak and headed out.

* * *

The chancellor was at a meeting when Obi-Wan arrived in the office. Sighing in frustration, he was about to leave when he noticed something odd. Anakin's force presence was _extremely_ strong here, as though he'd been spending a lot of time in this room recently. Furthermore, it was tainted by . . . terror. Pure terror, guilt, and pain. Suspicion flaring up inside of him, he stopped. What had Anakin been doing here to generate such emotions?

Unsure of what to do, he sat down to think. Last he'd checked, Anakin hadn't wanted to be anywhere near the chancellor, but this told a different story. Anakin had been in this room very recently, and he'd been doing something that seriously upset him. 

Suddenly, an idea came to him. He reached up and played back the security holos.

* * *

The Jedi master watched as Palpatine threatened his padawan. He watched as the chancellor tortured Anakin, both physically and mentally. The sound of Anakin calling that man _master_ made Obi-Wan sick. He watched, with building rage, as the chancellor forced his padawan to choose between his friends and his duty as a Jedi, and then threw it back in the boy's face. He watched as the man raped his little brother multiple times. He shut it off and sat down. 

Pure rage was flowing through him. He'd _never_ felt this furious. _Never._ Not even when Maul had killed Qui-Gon. He'd thought he'd been angry then, but now he knew he was wrong. He was one hair away from marching into the Senate meeting and strangling the old man with his bare hands. He quickly copied the holos onto a datachip and went back to the Council.

* * *

The twelve masters watched the disk in shock. "Well?" he sneered, when they had finished. "What do you have to say?"

Mace frowned. "What do you mean, Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "I _told_ you!" he hissed. "I told all of you! Five years ago, when you handed that blasted _box_ over to the chancellor, I _warned you_! I knew this was a bad idea! But did you listen? No! Of course not! Instead, you said, 'It'll be fine! The chancellor? He'd _never_ hurt young Skywalker! It's okay, Kenobi. Everything will be fine!'"

"Calm yourself, Kenobi," Mace frowned.

Obi-Wan nearly throttled him. "Calm myself?!? _Calm myself_?!? My apprentice has been abused, raped, threatened, manipulated, and tortured, and all you can do is tell me to _calm myself_?!?"

"With this information, we have the proof needed to convict Palpatine and have him imprisoned. We will begin working on a case for the Senate," master Tinn said gravely.

_Imprisonment is too good for that monster_ , Obi-Wan thought. He personally would've liked to see the old man hacked to pieces . . . alive. He took a steadying breath. "While you work on your case," he spat, "I'll be locating _my apprentice,_ who still hasn't shown up!" With that, he stormed out. Now to find Anakin.

* * *

Where could that boy be? Obi-Wan had tried calling him via comm six times now, with no response. He growled in frustration. The force was telling him that Anakin was in grave danger, but he couldn't pinpoint his location. "Artoo," he whispered to himself. He quickly summoned the little droid. "Artoo," he said, " Anakin's in trouble. I need you to trace the signal from his comlink so we can find him." Artoo whistled and got to it. 

The signal led them to a backstreet. The boy had likely been attempting to take a shortcut home when he'd collapsed. Obi-Wan could see his still form on the ground in a puddle of vomit and blood. The boy's breath was coming in short, painful spasms, and he had a deep cut on his head, likely from falling to the ground. Terror and panic overwhelming him, he scooped up the unconscious boy and carried him to the Temple.

* * *

Anakin groaned and opened his eyes. Wait a second . . . this wasn't his room. Where the blazes was he? Suddenly, it all came back to him. The chancellor's order, collapsing. He gasped sharply and sat up. "I see you're awake, young one." He looked up to see Obi-Wan sitting next to him. His face was mingled with sadness and relief.

"Where are we?" Anakin asked slowly.

Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The boy flinched but didn't move away. "You're in the halls of healing," he said.

Anakin inhaled sharply and started hyperventilating. No. No, no, no! They knew! It was over! Palpatine would . . . 

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said gently. "Anakin, look at me." Trembling, the boy obeyed. "Anakin. I know everything. I watched the security holos. Oh, Anakin. Why didn't you _tell_ me something?" his master seemed heartbroken. 

"I . . . couldn't," he whispered hoarsely, tears pooling at his eyes. "I wanted to, but I just _couldn't._ He would've _killed_ you, me, and everyone else I care about."

His master drew him into a hug. "Never," he promised. "He'll never hurt you again. We have all of the evidence needed to arrest him. It's over."

"Master?" Anakin asked. 

"Yes, padawan?"

"Go look under my bed. There's a disk there with all of the evidence proving Gunray's guilt. If you give it to the Senate, they'll be able to bring him to justice."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'll take care of it, young one. I'll take care of it. Just rest."

* * *

A few hours later, four Jedi went to arrest the chancellor. They came back almost immediately, reporting that the old man had disappeared. No one knew where he'd gone after the meeting. "He must've gotten wind that his secret was out," Mace informed Obi-Wan. "He's fled. We have no idea where he is."

Obi-Wan slammed his fist on the table. Where was the justice?!? This man had committed numerous crimes . . . rape, child abuse, treason, attempted murder. Yet despite it all, he got away. There was no justice. Palpatine was out there somewhere, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you go. The end of The Chancellor's Slave. I really hoped you guys liked this story. 
> 
> P.S. I know it doesn't explicitly say it in the fic, but Palpatine is force-sensitive, so he was able to sense that the game was up. That's why he ran.

**Author's Note:**

> So . . . what did you guys think? Let me know in the comments!


End file.
